WTF happened to November? I mean, really? Aside from a trip to DC, family visits and five days spent in bed, praying for my own survival, the month was super-short.
Colts are 11-0. Happy Days.
Getting ready for Christmas, lots to wrap up and ship out. Need to get into my gift closet and get the stuff ready to get out of here.
Sister and Boy Wonder arrive next Thursday night. Gotta work on getting Friday the 11th off work for playtime.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Living is, well, relative.
Yes, I'm alive.
Spending upwards of 16 hours a day in bed alive. Leaving work mid-day to take a nap alive. Thanking-God-Every-Day-Antibiotics-Exist Alive.
My biggest fear out of this whole hot mess of infection was that I'd end up with pneumonia. I am still hacking disgusting, unspeakable things. When I talk too much or attempt to laugh, I end up with a coughing fit that sounds like the end stages of emphysema. People back away from me when I start that. I can't say I blame them.
On the plus side, I actually went out for dinner last night. I know this seems like something I do often (and it is) but since I arrived back from DC I've been spending every possible hour in bed. So being out in public was a Very Big Deal to me.
I go to my favorite Italian place -- Mona Lisa's. It isn't much, a strip-mall Italian restaurant next to an Office Depot and a Thai place. Looks average from the outside.
The inside ... still pretty average, except for the blessing (!) from Pope Benedict for the restaurant. Yep, old school Catholic Italians. These are my people -- if I were Italian or Catholic, that is.
They make a dish there that makes my heart sing with joy and happiness. It is called the Chicken Mona Lisa. Boneless skinless chicken breasts covered with buffalo mozzarella, spinach, mushrooms, sundried tomatoes and a lemon-butter white wine sauce. Served with some steamed veggies (last night was broccoli, zucchini and yellow squash) and a bowl of pasta on the side. This makes for two very good meals, as I always take half home. I have tried to finish it all once and ended up with a bellyache. A damn fine bellyache, but a lesson learned nonetheless.
Last night, though, I wanted dessert. I wanted their tiramisu. I love tiramisu. Good tiramisu is hard to find, much like good biscuits and gravy, good Italian beef sandwiches and good pizza. There has to be a certain kind of magic used and most places don't have it.
Turns out they were out of it. They make it themselves (of course) and they were out. I have been chasing this elusive tiramisu since I got here.
The owner, Joe, had stopped by my table earlier. Yes, I've become a regular at this place, I can't help but enjoy each and every time I come there. We talked for a few minutes, I told him I loved his food and that I enjoyed coming in.
So ... Joe found me some tiramisu. I have no idea where it came from, only that "it wasn't theirs" but he hoped I'd enjoy it.
and I did.
And if theirs is as good or better than that one, I'm gonna marry into that family. Damn skippy, that was good tiramisu.
Spending upwards of 16 hours a day in bed alive. Leaving work mid-day to take a nap alive. Thanking-God-Every-Day-Antibiotics-Exist Alive.
My biggest fear out of this whole hot mess of infection was that I'd end up with pneumonia. I am still hacking disgusting, unspeakable things. When I talk too much or attempt to laugh, I end up with a coughing fit that sounds like the end stages of emphysema. People back away from me when I start that. I can't say I blame them.
On the plus side, I actually went out for dinner last night. I know this seems like something I do often (and it is) but since I arrived back from DC I've been spending every possible hour in bed. So being out in public was a Very Big Deal to me.
I go to my favorite Italian place -- Mona Lisa's. It isn't much, a strip-mall Italian restaurant next to an Office Depot and a Thai place. Looks average from the outside.
The inside ... still pretty average, except for the blessing (!) from Pope Benedict for the restaurant. Yep, old school Catholic Italians. These are my people -- if I were Italian or Catholic, that is.
They make a dish there that makes my heart sing with joy and happiness. It is called the Chicken Mona Lisa. Boneless skinless chicken breasts covered with buffalo mozzarella, spinach, mushrooms, sundried tomatoes and a lemon-butter white wine sauce. Served with some steamed veggies (last night was broccoli, zucchini and yellow squash) and a bowl of pasta on the side. This makes for two very good meals, as I always take half home. I have tried to finish it all once and ended up with a bellyache. A damn fine bellyache, but a lesson learned nonetheless.
Last night, though, I wanted dessert. I wanted their tiramisu. I love tiramisu. Good tiramisu is hard to find, much like good biscuits and gravy, good Italian beef sandwiches and good pizza. There has to be a certain kind of magic used and most places don't have it.
Turns out they were out of it. They make it themselves (of course) and they were out. I have been chasing this elusive tiramisu since I got here.
The owner, Joe, had stopped by my table earlier. Yes, I've become a regular at this place, I can't help but enjoy each and every time I come there. We talked for a few minutes, I told him I loved his food and that I enjoyed coming in.
So ... Joe found me some tiramisu. I have no idea where it came from, only that "it wasn't theirs" but he hoped I'd enjoy it.
and I did.
And if theirs is as good or better than that one, I'm gonna marry into that family. Damn skippy, that was good tiramisu.
Monday, November 16, 2009
She lives!
I spent my last few days in DC in a miserable phlem-coated nightmare of depravity. Yes, I managed to catch a severe upper respiratory infection (that I am still fighting today).
To highlight just how bad I felt: I willingly laid on the floor at the Atlanta airport. Yes, me. Yes, floor. Yes, floor of the busiest airport in the world. No, my germ-phobeness didn't overtake me, I felt so bad I was certain I was going to kick off anyway.
I am still wheezing, coughing and phlemy as all get-out, but day 3 on antibiotics makes me a much happier person. I don't think I'm going to die of this now, which is a comfort compared to Friday when I thought it was a possibility.
I don't remember ever being this sick in recent memory.
DC was fabulous, as always, although the constant rain/wind brought on by the remnants of Hurricane Ida-turned-nor'easter was vicious and unpleasant. I was so glad to see sunshine again.
Spent my birthday in bed, except for a trip to the Dr's then a trip later to the pharmacy. Slept 18 of the 24 hours. Sunday was not much different although I went out to the beach with Mary and 3 of the 4 kiddos. It was nice to sit in the sun. I was hoping it would bake some of this crap out of me.
Today has been spent getting laundry done and cleaning up a bit from the trip. Tonight is a trip to see Stephen King in Sarasota for his Under the Dome booktour. I am crazy excited to see him.
Until then ... a good nap and some more meds. Celebrate the b-day next weekend ...
To highlight just how bad I felt: I willingly laid on the floor at the Atlanta airport. Yes, me. Yes, floor. Yes, floor of the busiest airport in the world. No, my germ-phobeness didn't overtake me, I felt so bad I was certain I was going to kick off anyway.
I am still wheezing, coughing and phlemy as all get-out, but day 3 on antibiotics makes me a much happier person. I don't think I'm going to die of this now, which is a comfort compared to Friday when I thought it was a possibility.
I don't remember ever being this sick in recent memory.
DC was fabulous, as always, although the constant rain/wind brought on by the remnants of Hurricane Ida-turned-nor'easter was vicious and unpleasant. I was so glad to see sunshine again.
Spent my birthday in bed, except for a trip to the Dr's then a trip later to the pharmacy. Slept 18 of the 24 hours. Sunday was not much different although I went out to the beach with Mary and 3 of the 4 kiddos. It was nice to sit in the sun. I was hoping it would bake some of this crap out of me.
Today has been spent getting laundry done and cleaning up a bit from the trip. Tonight is a trip to see Stephen King in Sarasota for his Under the Dome booktour. I am crazy excited to see him.
Until then ... a good nap and some more meds. Celebrate the b-day next weekend ...
Thursday, November 12, 2009
in DC
I'm in DC this week for work -- first shmoozing, then a conference.
There is nothing quite like this city -- especially for a political junkie like me. I was here last in January 2009 for the Inauguration. An incredible trip, full of hope (not cliched, truly, optimism was in the air), joy and new beginnings. Like any relationship, really ;)
************
Yesterday was harder for me than I realized it would be.
I've never been here over a Veterans' Day, just always knew certain activities happened here that day and that was that. Seeing the scores of veterans here was incredible and moving. Yesterday marked the first time the WWII memorial had a wreath-laying ceremony, five years after the memorial opened. There were dozens of WWII veterans here ... all wearing some insignia of where they served, what branch of service they were in, etc. It was the moment I laid eyes on the Pearl Harbor veteran, in his wheelchair, that I think the waterworks really kicked in. I thanked him for his service ... and as we walked down the mall towards the Smithsonian Metro station I remained amazed at the history, knowledge and sacrifice that this man has seen.
A few minutes before encountering this man, I was asked a question by my coworker, Doc, and his friend, Joe, about why Vietnam Veterans greet each other with "Welcome Home."
This stunned me and let me explain why.
Both of these men have been involved in politics for years. Both have served for various House members in the Florida Legislature. Both have worked for members with ties to Veterans Affairs in Florida.
WTF?
As a child of a Vietnam Veteran I was heartbroken. As a member of the VFW Auxilary and American Legion Auxilary, I was heartbroken. As a student of history and politics, I was heartbroken.
For the uninitated, the term "Welcome Home," often used by Vietnam Veterans to greet each other, refers to the poor treatment they often received after returning home from Vietnam. Spit on, called baby killers or worse, and generally reviled, many of these veterans immediately changed from their uniforms into civilian clothes immediately upon entering the United States. Only their brothers in arms, fellow Vietnam Veterans, knew of the heartbreak and sacrifice that these men had seen. Thus, the term "Welcome Home" was nearly unheard of, except when used by fellow Vietnam Veterans.
Contrast this treatment to the treatment WWII veterans received -- parades, honors and tears of joy. You can see why Vietnam Veterans often consider each other their true brothers, as only they know what they've been through.
To paraphrase a quote ... when we forget our history, we are doomed to repeat it.
There is nothing quite like this city -- especially for a political junkie like me. I was here last in January 2009 for the Inauguration. An incredible trip, full of hope (not cliched, truly, optimism was in the air), joy and new beginnings. Like any relationship, really ;)
************
Yesterday was harder for me than I realized it would be.
I've never been here over a Veterans' Day, just always knew certain activities happened here that day and that was that. Seeing the scores of veterans here was incredible and moving. Yesterday marked the first time the WWII memorial had a wreath-laying ceremony, five years after the memorial opened. There were dozens of WWII veterans here ... all wearing some insignia of where they served, what branch of service they were in, etc. It was the moment I laid eyes on the Pearl Harbor veteran, in his wheelchair, that I think the waterworks really kicked in. I thanked him for his service ... and as we walked down the mall towards the Smithsonian Metro station I remained amazed at the history, knowledge and sacrifice that this man has seen.
A few minutes before encountering this man, I was asked a question by my coworker, Doc, and his friend, Joe, about why Vietnam Veterans greet each other with "Welcome Home."
This stunned me and let me explain why.
Both of these men have been involved in politics for years. Both have served for various House members in the Florida Legislature. Both have worked for members with ties to Veterans Affairs in Florida.
WTF?
As a child of a Vietnam Veteran I was heartbroken. As a member of the VFW Auxilary and American Legion Auxilary, I was heartbroken. As a student of history and politics, I was heartbroken.
For the uninitated, the term "Welcome Home," often used by Vietnam Veterans to greet each other, refers to the poor treatment they often received after returning home from Vietnam. Spit on, called baby killers or worse, and generally reviled, many of these veterans immediately changed from their uniforms into civilian clothes immediately upon entering the United States. Only their brothers in arms, fellow Vietnam Veterans, knew of the heartbreak and sacrifice that these men had seen. Thus, the term "Welcome Home" was nearly unheard of, except when used by fellow Vietnam Veterans.
Contrast this treatment to the treatment WWII veterans received -- parades, honors and tears of joy. You can see why Vietnam Veterans often consider each other their true brothers, as only they know what they've been through.
To paraphrase a quote ... when we forget our history, we are doomed to repeat it.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
New blogs ...
Added some stuff for your reading pleasure:
Giant Butters -- happened to run across this one a few days ago. Used to be known as The Cherry Ride and now has changed cities, lives and career choices. I was lucky enough to meet him last year on the Bag Lady Bus Tour.
Texts From Last Night/Emails from Crazy People -- both provide me with endless hours of laughter. We've all sent the crazy text/email. Now read what others are texting.
PostSecret -- a longtime fave. Check it out.
DCBlogs -- because I love all things DC.
Ruth Holliday -- good blog for all things Indy/Indiana. Former writer for the Indianapolis Star.
I can haz cheeseburger -- I love LOLs.
My Frugal Adventures -- because I'm a total cheapass and love knowing this stuff.
Enjoy!
Giant Butters -- happened to run across this one a few days ago. Used to be known as The Cherry Ride and now has changed cities, lives and career choices. I was lucky enough to meet him last year on the Bag Lady Bus Tour.
Texts From Last Night/Emails from Crazy People -- both provide me with endless hours of laughter. We've all sent the crazy text/email. Now read what others are texting.
PostSecret -- a longtime fave. Check it out.
DCBlogs -- because I love all things DC.
Ruth Holliday -- good blog for all things Indy/Indiana. Former writer for the Indianapolis Star.
I can haz cheeseburger -- I love LOLs.
My Frugal Adventures -- because I'm a total cheapass and love knowing this stuff.
Enjoy!
Pinot Grigio = one dry mouth
Great googly moogly, I ought to know better. I mean, really, I'll be 36 years old in a manner of days but still, still, still I believe I am bullet-proof when it comes to wine.
Pino Grigio was the killer of last night. I had buckets (okay, glasses that were remarkably like buckets) of wine and lo and behold, this morning I have dry mouth like a MF.
Sahara Desert-like, you ask -- nay. Nay. The Sahara is the freaking ocean compared to the interior of my mouth today.
Famous last words: "Sure, I'll have one more." (you dumbass!)
Pino Grigio was the killer of last night. I had buckets (okay, glasses that were remarkably like buckets) of wine and lo and behold, this morning I have dry mouth like a MF.
Sahara Desert-like, you ask -- nay. Nay. The Sahara is the freaking ocean compared to the interior of my mouth today.
Famous last words: "Sure, I'll have one more." (you dumbass!)
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Weird reoccurring dreams
A post the other day on my cousin's facebook status made me wonder something -- does anyone else have weird reoccurring dreams? The same dream, over and over ... same outcome, etc?
I have one, with three variations on the same theme.
a) I missed my math final and I am going to fail my math class.
b) I somehow forgot I actually *had* a math class and now have to take the final completely unprepared.
c) I know I have a math class, I've been skipping it all semester and now I have to take my math final.
For the record, same teacher in all three scenarios -- Mrs. Gondor, tenth grade geometry. She is always the math teacher in this dream, and it always has to do with me not going to graduate from college. I always wake up, heart pounding, scared out of my mind and frantic.
Why Mrs. Gondor? Hell, I don't know. I actually *liked* geometry -- to this day the only math class I've found useful, aside from the basics of addition, subtraction, multiplication and division.
So what about you? Any weird reoccurring dreams? What are they?
I have one, with three variations on the same theme.
a) I missed my math final and I am going to fail my math class.
b) I somehow forgot I actually *had* a math class and now have to take the final completely unprepared.
c) I know I have a math class, I've been skipping it all semester and now I have to take my math final.
For the record, same teacher in all three scenarios -- Mrs. Gondor, tenth grade geometry. She is always the math teacher in this dream, and it always has to do with me not going to graduate from college. I always wake up, heart pounding, scared out of my mind and frantic.
Why Mrs. Gondor? Hell, I don't know. I actually *liked* geometry -- to this day the only math class I've found useful, aside from the basics of addition, subtraction, multiplication and division.
So what about you? Any weird reoccurring dreams? What are they?
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
I Know Royalty!
Almost forgot (Heaven Forfend!)
Halle Pino was crowned Queen of the Bag Ladies on Saturday night. Halle is a great friend and most deserving of the honor.
I only wish I had been there to see it happen!!!
(for more info on the Bag Ladies, please see http://www.indyprideinc.com/ )
Love to you, Ms. Spicy ... xoxoxoxxo
Halle Pino was crowned Queen of the Bag Ladies on Saturday night. Halle is a great friend and most deserving of the honor.
I only wish I had been there to see it happen!!!
(for more info on the Bag Ladies, please see http://www.indyprideinc.com/ )
Love to you, Ms. Spicy ... xoxoxoxxo
Nonsense, happenings and DC!
Most importantly: on Sunday I fly out to DC for a week. I am SO excited :) Good news: seeing PM from Ivy, bad news: possibly bringing a winter coat. It is still boxed from the move!
This weekend was lovely, had lots to do and just generally did whatever my heart desired. Life of Riley and all that.
Friday night was spent in the company of Mary and Lee, at their house, with the kiddos. Between Mary and I, three bottles of wine were consumed and a couple of beers over the course of seven hours. Needless to say, I was quite delighted when Lee made up the sofabed for me -- I cashed out nearly immediately. It was 2:30 a.m. and we'd be talking since 7:30. Bright and early the next morning (7 a.m.ish), the youngest kiddo (C -- age 4) wakes me up by asking me if he can have candy now (as it was Halloween). I crack open one eye, attempting to figure out where I am/who is talking to me/and why does the voice sound like a kid when I realize where I am, tell him candy is for after breakfast and make my escape.
Did lots of household chores on Saturday -- planted some herbs and veggies, swept, dusted, cleaned tile floors. Saturday night was a trip up to Dad and Stepmom's house for dinner/hang out.
Went to Dad's favorite Chinese place for dinner and then we attempted to go out for a beer. The local bar we went to had some guy yodeling (okay, singing, poorly) so one beverage later, we were on our way. I doubt we were there thirty minutes.
Sunday was spent hanging out with them, making a run to IKEA, then back to FM for laundry doings. Before calling it a night, I met Mary for a beverage at the Sandy Parrot and was back at home by 8.
Last night was spent finishing my book, getting the rest of the laundry done and starting to think about my trip to DC. Lots to pack, lots to think about.
Last time I was there was January 2009, for the inauguration and the resounding memory of that trip is hoping to God my toes weren't frostbitten off. Brrrrrrrrrrrr. This time I'll spend some time in the botanical gardens and museum of American History on Sunday ... then dinner with Mary and Doc (another coworker who will be there that week). Count on beverages to be consumed.
This weekend was lovely, had lots to do and just generally did whatever my heart desired. Life of Riley and all that.
Friday night was spent in the company of Mary and Lee, at their house, with the kiddos. Between Mary and I, three bottles of wine were consumed and a couple of beers over the course of seven hours. Needless to say, I was quite delighted when Lee made up the sofabed for me -- I cashed out nearly immediately. It was 2:30 a.m. and we'd be talking since 7:30. Bright and early the next morning (7 a.m.ish), the youngest kiddo (C -- age 4) wakes me up by asking me if he can have candy now (as it was Halloween). I crack open one eye, attempting to figure out where I am/who is talking to me/and why does the voice sound like a kid when I realize where I am, tell him candy is for after breakfast and make my escape.
Did lots of household chores on Saturday -- planted some herbs and veggies, swept, dusted, cleaned tile floors. Saturday night was a trip up to Dad and Stepmom's house for dinner/hang out.
Went to Dad's favorite Chinese place for dinner and then we attempted to go out for a beer. The local bar we went to had some guy yodeling (okay, singing, poorly) so one beverage later, we were on our way. I doubt we were there thirty minutes.
Sunday was spent hanging out with them, making a run to IKEA, then back to FM for laundry doings. Before calling it a night, I met Mary for a beverage at the Sandy Parrot and was back at home by 8.
Last night was spent finishing my book, getting the rest of the laundry done and starting to think about my trip to DC. Lots to pack, lots to think about.
Last time I was there was January 2009, for the inauguration and the resounding memory of that trip is hoping to God my toes weren't frostbitten off. Brrrrrrrrrrrr. This time I'll spend some time in the botanical gardens and museum of American History on Sunday ... then dinner with Mary and Doc (another coworker who will be there that week). Count on beverages to be consumed.
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